


Life is Strange...unless you've lived through Silent Hill

by n0t_bess1e_b4ss_0n_the_b4ss



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game), Silent Hill (Video Game Series), Silent Hill 3 - Fandom
Genre: 16 years late to the party, Anxiety, Heather Mason has PTSD, Heather fully intends on fighting everyone, Heather just joins the squad and shit goes down, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Nobody is dead in this timeline, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Trust Issues, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, but yeah, everyone is alive and friends, im like, no one is going to read this lol, post-Silent Hill 3, so in the Life is Strange fandom!, sorta - Freeform, the SH fandom is dead but I’m still kicking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-18 00:51:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17571149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n0t_bess1e_b4ss_0n_the_b4ss/pseuds/n0t_bess1e_b4ss_0n_the_b4ss
Summary: Heather Mason is hurting all over. God is now dead and the only thing she wants is to go home and sleep forever. Maybe have Douglas adopt her. She hasn’t decided yet.Unfortunately, those plans are cut short when she looks in one of those demon symbols one last time. Suddenly, she’s in some place called Arcadia Bay. Still feeling like more of a monster then a human being, she will have to learn to trust people again, starting with this particular group of students.





	Life is Strange...unless you've lived through Silent Hill

Everything hurt.

Well, everything always hurt, but it hurts more than usual at this very moment. Heather can barely force her eyelids open; it’s like they’re glued together. She thinks she’s standing up, but it feels like she’s falling down. And, holy mother of the now-dead God, did her head throb. 

She thinks shock has finally worn off. She can feel every stab of pain, every pinprick is agony that needles her body. The bite mark on her left leg from a particularly quick Double Head looks to be festering. Her knees are darker than a ripe eggplant in the fall and she thinks the burn on her shoulder is peeling again. Her collarbone is definitely fracture, three of her ribs have to be cracked, and blood had been dribbling out in persistent streams from her nose a little while ago- she can’t remember why. At least the gash on her side has stopped bleeding, but now it’s just drooling out copious amounts of slimy discharge, which isn’t much better.

But it was fine. Everything was fine. She managed to survive in Silent Hill with all of these wounds. If open injuries were going to get badly infected anywhere, it would be there. But she was okay.

That front lasted for half an hour and then she saw the sigil on the bathroom mirror. Why did she even think to go in there? She should have just left with Douglas immediately. Now she’s...well, she can’t quite remember. Her head hurts too much.

Geez, though, who turned on the lights? She’s barely opening her eyes and she already feels like she’s being blinded. Burning white light stabs into her retinas; was it this bright in the bathroom?

And what was that sound? Was someone brushing their teeth or something? Better yet: when did someone else walk in here with her? She would have noticed. And it’s not like there was anyone else around, beside Douglas, but he wouldn’t waltz right into the girl’s restroom and start brushing his teeth or something.

Wait, what the hell? This mirror is cleaner compared to the one in that gritty little amusement park bathroom. And were those showers in the reflection? And who in the ever loving hell is that girl brushing her teeth next to her?

Heather does a double take. She inhales a sharp breath and slowly cranes her head around to look at the stranger. Her face drains of all color as the blonde girl’s toothbrush fell from her mouth, clattering into the sink bowl. They both stare at each other for a long time before Heather bolts towards the door. She stumbles into an unfamiliar hallway with even more unfamiliar people. They seem to recognize her as an unknown alien to this place and turned to stare. It didn’t help that she was breathing heavily and looked like she was in serious need of a hospital. 

She took two steps back, only to get herself into a wall. She narrowly dodges someone coming at her and- where the hell is her shotgun? It’s not on her. Of course she left it somewhere that wasn’t here. At least she had her pipe and pistol; they were lighter, anyway.

Heather swerved away from the teenager walking towards her and sprints into a storage closet, pressing up against the door to keep it shut once she’s inside. She slumps to the ground, trying to catch her breath and process what exactly was happening.

She could hear talking out in the hallway. It was muffled through the wall, but it would only take a little common sense to realize they were talking about her. Because of course they were.

“...I don’t know. I just blinked and there she was!”

“...That’s so weird. I’ve never seen her here before. Maybe she’s a new student?”

“...We would have known by now.”

“...True.”

Heather holds her breath and prays in the god she has recently killed that they’ll go away. They don’t. This is why she isn’t religious.

There’s a knock on the door that sends Heather hauling into the opposite wall. She collides with cleaning supplies and she feels her burned shoulder and fractured collarbone ache in disagreement. She grits her teeth and waits for the pain to subside, which causes her to miss what’s being said to her for the first few seconds.

“..Hello? Hello? Are you okay in there?” Asked a first voice.

“Umm, are you on any kind of drugs?” Piped up a second.

“...Kate!”

“...What? It’s a good question. We’re all probably thinking it.”

“...Fair enough.”

It takes a moment for Heather register that words are being spoken to her. Words of concern; not ones that are screaming religious sacraments or going on about how she was going to birth a demon. These people sounded genuinely worried about her. That didn’t stop her from putting up a protective front, though.

“What? No I’m not on drugs!” She snapped and her voice came out shakier than she would have liked. “I just- Where the hell am I?”

“Blackwell Academy in Arcadia Bay.” The second voice answers without missing a beat, then added softly to their friend, “...See, I told you she wasn’t from here.”

Arcadia Bay? The good news was that at least she was still in Oregon. The bad news is literally everything else about the situation she’s got herself into.

Heather swears softly to herself. She wants to scream and pull her hair out, but that hasn’t done any good before. Besides, she doesn’t want to add anymore pain to her already throbbing head.

“Do you mind coming out here? So we can talk face-to-face? Maybe we can help you?” Requested the first voice.

Heather was this close to just saying “That’s it! I’m killing myself!” and then shooting herself in the mouth with her pistol, but she stamps down that urge. She stands up very slowly, half because of her hesitancy and half because of her wounded leg. She puts her hand on her pipe and opens the door begrudgingly.

Two completely normal looking people stared in at her, trying to seem as less threatening as possible, which she kind of appreciated. 

Both of them were taller than her, most people were, and appeared to be slightly older. They seemed friendly enough. The brunette reminded Heather of a doe, while the girl that had been brushing her teeth looked like a barn owl. Heather made a mental note to stop comparing people to animals. 

“Hi,” Doe-girl said with a small smile, “I’m Max Caulfield. This is Kate Marsh. What’s your name?”

Ah, so she wasn’t “doe-girl”. Good to know. Weird that they’re just giving out their real names to a complete stranger like it’s no big whoop, though. Heather sifted through the many aliases she had used before, until she finally settled on just using her most recent one. She considered coming up with a new one entirely, but getting used to another title wasn’t something she wanted to memorize right now. And it wasn’t like she was ready to use Cheryl yet, either. 

“Heather,” She said, “Heather Mason.”

Max and Kate exchange looks, and for a moment Heather worried that she’ll have to kill them if they know about her. Then, they smile in a friendly way that eases her up a little. Not enough to pry her hand loose from her steel pipe, though.

“It’s nice to meet you, Heather.” Max says, “So I take it that you’re not from around here, huh? I mean, I’ve never seen you around school before.”

Heather is only partially listening. She’s gone temporarily deaf in one ear and the other is constantly ringing, so she can’t hear much. She wonders if that blood trail is still dried down her ear, or maybe she scratched it off. 

“Yeah, no. I’m not a student.” She answered.

“Do you have any idea how you got here?” Kate asked.

Heather shakes her head. Really, that’s the truth. Being transported to another city entirely has never happened before.

“That’s okay,” Max said, “We’re not strangers to weird and unexplainable occurrences.”

Heather is actually curious about that and really wants to question this deer-looking girl, but her mouth is way too dry to waste speech on something as unimportant as that. She can’t remember the last time she drank anything. Or ate. All she can taste in her mouth is blood and sour traces of bile from when she threw up that disgusting fetus thing. Mainly blood, though.

“Oh...I bet.” She said, trying to humor them. “Listen, I’m, uhh, sorry for this disturbance. If you can just point me to the nearest bus or train station then that would be just-“

She attempted to walk, but it didn’t go so well. Her wounded leg and bruised knees finally turn against her and completely stop working. The ground rushes up to meet her and the last thing she heard was those two girls screaming. Maybe her name. She can’t be precise, though, because the roaring in her functioning ear gets louder and it’s not long before she’s unconscious, staring at the grotesque figure of God that now flits behind her eyelids.

———

Claw away the darkness.

Heather tries. She really does. She’s weaker. It’s harder to fight.

Fighting is all she can do now. Silent Hill, the Otherworld, has changed her. It morphed her into a slayer that she never wanted to be. Not that she had a choice, though. When you’re shoved into a situation like hers, fighting is the only thing you can do. Running only buys you a little time, but not enough to get to safety. 

Animal instincts. That’s what Heather has developed. She has climbed her way to the top of the pyramid and was crowned as the apex predator. Killing is all she learned and it’s going to stick with her for the rest of her life. Never trust anyone.

But when all of that is stripped away, when all of it is taken and you’re left completely helpless, it’s fucking terrifying. Heather feels naked without all the power she struggled to obtain. She needed to be strong or she’ll die in this new environment. 

Her claws chip and darkness overtakes her.

Heather is pulled back into a freezing black ocean. Waves batter against her. Salt water stings in her several open wounds. Red bubbles explode from her lips and, in return, bloody mouthfuls of sea foam rush down her esophagus.

“...Ho-ly shit. You weren’t lying. She looks terrible.”

Over Poseidon’s wrath, she thinks she hears a voice. It’s unfamiliar, but it’s the only thing she’s got. She tries to cling to it.

“...What I want to know is why nobody called 911.”

“...Common sense, Rachel. Something is different about this girl and we can’t let her go without finding out what that is. It’s been too long since we had a good mystery on our hands.”

“...It’s been a solid two months, Max, but okay.”

Too many voices. Too many people she definitely doesn’t know. Heather is scrambling for a hold, for air, but she’s shoved down to the sand once again.

“...Hey, guys!”

“...Hi, Warren!”

“...Why are you climbing in through Max’s window?”

“...You mean the Chloe door?”

She thrashes. She kicks and paddles in sheer desperation before she’s able to grab onto something. It becomes her anchor and it’s the only thing she has. She hauls herself upwards and breaches the surface.

Heather bolts upright, nearly smashing her head into someone else’s skull. Multiple yelps of shock fill wherever-she-is and she looks around frantically, barley registering the overwhelming pain that floods through her entire body. When she does, she cringes.

There are not one, not two, but five people in what she assumes to be a dorm room. Five people that she doesn’t know and could be dangerous. She kinda recognizes Max and Kate, but she doesn’t know them well enough to be cool around them.

The other three complete strangers are as followed: Blue haired chick who is definitely gay (a wolf? maybe a shark?), lady with brown hair (lioness, definitely), and some dude by the window (possibly a ferret or lemur). Heather has no idea who gave them the right to watch over her unconscious body. 

“Too fast,” Max mutters, her hands going out to steady Heather.

The girl defensively snapped her head around and bared her teeth, reaching for her pipe.

“Don’t touch me.” She warned and Max backed off.

“I like her.” Said the wolf-shark. 

Heather eyes her wryly before going to stand up. Every muscle in her body strains in disagreement and it feels like two-ton chains are weighing her down at the wrists. 

“Woah, hey, I don’t think you should do that.” The boy said, but Heather ignores him.

Her spine bows when hands close around she forearms and she’s paralyzed for a moment, like an animal shot with a tranquilizer dart. She struggled but fatigue has zapped most of her energy.

“For once, listen to the geek over there.” Says the culprit of the touch, wolf-shark.

“Hey!” The geeky lemur barked.

“His name is Warren,” Max informs, “That’s Chloe and Rachel.”

Heather hums roughly in response, mainly because it hurts to talk. Her stomach cramps from hunger, but she isn’t about to go and eat something from this unknown place. It’s not safe in the slightest.

“What happened to you?” Rachel asked and Heather spends a long time just analyzing her.

She quickly realizes what she’s doing. She’s sizing these people up. Estimating how easy it would be to kill them. It’s not a morbid thought- it’s self defense. She can’t trust people anymore. If she struck now, she could probably bash in the obvious Christian’s head before anyone could react. Then, if she spun around quick enough, she could definitely nail the doe in the back of the skull or neck. Lemur-boy shouldn’t even be a challenge. She might be able to get him in the throat with enough precision. She has her pistol, too, so that should make quick work of Blue Hair and Queen Bee. Yeah, she liked to think she could have them all down in a minute.

“It’s not something I want to share,” Heather grits, idly tracing her fingertips around one of the holes in her calf. The bite mark was blackened and warm to the touch. She hasn’t thought much of it until now, but she still pushes it out of her mind.

“Something wild, I bet.” Warren comments, getting closer to really join the huddle.

“Wow, did it take a Master’s Degree in psychology for you to realize that?” Heather said sarcastically. That came out much harsher than she had really intended. She’s more sardonic when scared.

Chloe barks with laughter while Warren huffs, muttering something underneath his breath.

“Okay, I’m- I’m sorry.” Heather sighed, “Can I just- can I have some space? So I can clean up? Then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“There’s the showers.” Kate suggested.

A shower actually sounded really nice. Heather couldn’t turn it down, so that’s where she shuffled off to.

“Oh my god,” Rachel said once she was out of the dorm room, “Max, what a mangy little weirdo you managed to scrounge up.” She meant that in a good natured way.

“Maybe she can time travel, too.” Max says, genuinely interested in this weird experience, “This is a perfect opportunity to learn more about the ability! And I would have felt bad if I just left her unconscious on the floor.”

“So would I.” Kate agreed.

“What are we going to do with her?” Warren asked, “She can’t stay here. People can’t just waltz into this school. You have to be accepted. Even though most people on this campus act like they are drugs every second of every day, even they could figure out she shouldn’t belong here.”

“Or would they.”

Chloe is smirking from where she’s perched on Max’s bed- not a good sign.

“Not another one of Chloe’s ideas...” Kate mutters.

“It’s another one of my ideas!” Chloe announced, “Just sneak her in. Say she’s new and just hasn’t been added to the system yet.”

“I said everyone here takes drugs, not that they lack any brain cells.” Warren says against her plan.

Chloe shoots him a half hearted glare.

“It might work.” Max shrugs, “There’s an empty dorm in the girl’s building. She can stay there.”

“I thoroughly enjoy how we’ve all collectively came to the agreement that we’re not letting her leave.” Rachel chuckled. 

They all laughed, but there’s no way they’ll be laughing forever. 

Fog rolls into Arcadia Bay in thick white sheets that afternoon. Heather feels sick all over again, like another demon is trying to claw its way out of her stomach.


End file.
